On the Shelf


written by Tim Scott Poma

I never said I own a gun
Because no good could ever come from one
What kind of place we live
Where we need bullets to protect our kids
Shouldn’t they be out in the yard?
With out a fence and fear of drive by cars
Don’t take my word for it kid
I’ve still got a lot of life left to live

Whoa why can’t we all believe in ourselves?
Why can’t we see our own divinity?
Oh why can’t we believe in ourselves
And why do we put ourselves, ourselves
On the shelf

I know we can’t just sit around
While the airs so polluted with the propaganda sound
If you want to stay informed look with in
A silence of the soul will revile truth my friend
It’s like were all alone in a confession booth
Making collect calls direct to heaven
And the most beautiful angel listening in
To all the words and she’s crying
For she can feel the way our soul is bleeding
Just to stay alive in this world were competing
She silent whispers to me that were defecting
Our greatest potential that compassionate feeling
So let your soul bleed and your heart will come alive
Let the rhythm move you to the truth

Whoa why can’t we all believe in ourselves?
Why can’t we see our own divinity?
Oh why can’t we believe in ourselves
And why do we put ourselves, ourselves
On the shelf

No original sound can come from religion
No new idea can be thought with in it
Only dogma can come from there vision
Its time to put the book down and make our decision
How can you say that you are living?
When you say you are living for someone else
Why can’t you see the divinity in the mirror?
Why must we bleed for there staged fears
Can you not see the gears they are grinding?
So much friction within this machine
Don’t we wish that we could all awake?
From this dream but if we did we wouldn’t be living

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